Winter

Once upon a winters time
Rain did fall to a clocks dead chime.
Church bells ring,
And maidens sing
Of a glorious time,
Of a glorious thing.
A knife in the midst of heat,
Your heart, no more it beats.
Slay me now,
No matter how
But without you,
Life's not true.
At my funeral pyre
Alight with fire,
The maidens sing of a glorious time
Of a glorious thing.
On this cold winters night,
With this knife
Your fright,
I'll end my life.